


“But Max, you don’t even like girls!"

by w0d



Category: Sam & Max
Genre: Established Relationship, Fix-It, M/M, bc theyve been married since 1987, because chariots of the dogs was Almost perfect, i literally posted this on max's birthday but ao3 just hates me, uhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-28 23:43:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20434448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/w0d/pseuds/w0d
Summary: "I can't believe Telltale made me straight for a hot minute.""Me neither, it was deeply unsettling.""Good thing it never happened, huh Sam?""Sure is, little buddy."





	“But Max, you don’t even like girls!"

They were in Bosco’s Inconvenience Store, Momma Bosco’s Inconvenience, actually, er, Mrs. Bosco’s, Ms.- they were in an inconvenience store, although the least convenient thing there seemed to be the owner itself. Not only did her name quickly become one of the most confusing ones Sam’s ever known, second only to whatever his daughter’s legal name used to be before they got it pretty-much-legally changed to Geek SamAndMax, but within minutes of meeting Max and his marketable-y toxic personality, she had seemed to have fallen in love with the guy. And with Sam priding himself on having gotten there first, he had more than a few qualms with that.

“Max doesn’t even like girls!” he tried to reason for the nth time, “Especially not since our relationship got serious in, when did that start, exactly?”  
“I think it all goes back to that time we were....”  
Max looked at the camera dramatically, with all the suspense of a drowning magician, and yet nothing came. The lagomorph/marsupial/amphibian deflated visibly.  
“No flashback? Hm, ok, well it’s been ever since high school.”

Sam rested his hand on Max’s head, squeezing it lightly. Trying to maintain a friendly, calm disposition even though inside he was screaming louder than a rabid chimpanzee during a mass-murder massacre on Cinco De Mayo.  
“You’re wasting your time, Ms. Bosco. Max just isn’t interested in ending what he already has.”  
“Specifically for you, though if Flint Paper ever swings my way, or if that charming platypus ever dumps that pharmacist guy, I’d drop Sam like he’s hotter than either of ‘em.”  
“Assuming that I’m not, even though I am.”  
Max placed his hand on Sam’s condescendingly, though the action didn’t lack a comforting reassurance.  
“Of course you are! Being married to me inherently makes you 20% hotter.”

The Bosco that they forgot was in front of them wove her hand in the air casually, a subtle yet characteristically pushy way to tell the two to shut their collective trap.  
“That isn’t even legal here, boys.”  
“It wasn’t legal the first time we did it either, but we don’t follow the laws, we just act like we’re enforcing them.”  
“And sometimes not even that!”  
“Besides, the more you two protest, the more I know you two just aren’t good for each other!”

She leaned forward ever so slightly with half lidded eyes, a slight tint to her face, elbow rested on the counter, and her cheek in her palm. Sam didn’t know if he wanted to punch her or vomit on her. Max was always better at making up his mind, however, and he seemed to be rather partial to the former at the moment.

“But I can be good for you Max.”

“Or not,” Sam thought, as Max’s pristine white fur changed to a forest flush in mere moments. He quickly jumped into his larger friend’s arms, which made said friend become very scared for the wellbeing of his suit.  
“Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew! Sam get me away from the scary lady with the butt-lift!”  
“What’s a butt-lift?”  
“Look, lady: we’re from different worlds. I’m from Earth, and you’re from the freakiest planet of the freak system!”  
While still in Sam’s arms, the rabbit’s tone became somehow equal parts anger and panic, his volume rose and his ears turned further back every minute he had to explain to this woman that he was home of the sexual.  
“Opposites attract, baby. You’re the only man not fallin’ over himself to get me.”

Max shifted himself around in Sam’s arms so that he looked almost as if he was sitting sideways on an armchair. He pretended to preen his claws as he spoke to the Bosco, trying to look as nonchalant as a sick rabbit could be.  
“I’m ‘fallin’’ over myself to get AWAY from you! And did it not occur to you that Sam is ALSO not trying to get with you?”  
“Please leave me out of this.”  
“Not to mention most eye-possessing members of all genders under the sun. I’m just not into ladies!”  
“Keep on protesting! It just makes me know you’re the one!”

Sam stroked his little lagomuffin’s ears reassuringly, knowing he was in immense pain from this travesty of an interaction. He made sure to turn his head 45 degrees in Max’s direction to make sure Bosco Prime couldn’t hear them talking about her like she wasn't right in front of them, since it’s a well known rule of detective work that no one can hear side conversations.  
“It’s no use little pal, we’ve exhausted the dialogue tree.”  
“Honestly, Sam, good riddance! She keeps undressing me with her eyes.”  
“You don't even wear clothes!”  
“I know! I don’t understand what she’s looking for! It’s creeping me out!”

They walked around the store for a little longer, Sam looking for clues and Max trying to clear his head of the past 10 minutes and looting the store for goodies. They made small talk from across the aisle.  
“I don't even get it Sam, one minute she’s all ‘oppressive patriarchy’, and the next she’s putting the moves on a married twink! You’d think she’s some tumblr chick that fetishizes gay men if she weren’t actually living in the sixties. Even Sailor Moon hasn’t gotten here yet.”  
“Well Max, I think it’s a good example of how societal pressure forces women like her who aren’t interested in men to subconsciously try to fit into their role in society, even if she says otherwise. This can lead to irrational attachments to anyone who she can relate to and an unhealthy desperation to find companionship that she probably wouldn’t even want if it weren’t for the oppressive status quo of the era.”  
“Gross, Sam, your psychology courses are showing.”  
Sam rubbed at the bridge of his snout with a sigh, god the years were really catching up with him weren't they?  
“I know, I’ve got to get that checked when we get back home.”

-

“Do we really HAVE to, Sam?”  
Max pulled at Sam’s tie tiredly, Sam could relate but, as he was Max’s main source of support right now, he couldn’t exactly slump over in mental exhaustion as he’d quite like.

“You heard the byte-sized multi-faceted artificial intelligence, Max. Without Bosco, the entire Earth might still be populated with Hugh Bliss simulacra!”  
“That would make them SO more satisfying to punch thooough.”  
Max let go of Max- I mean Sam’s tie in favor of resting his hands on his hips with absolutely ludicrous amounts of sass.  
“And as much as I love giving presumable innocents blunt force trauma, it’s extremely annoying when they’re all just copying my best quips, the material is only good when it’s fresh!”

Sam held his jaw for a moment, his little buddy made a good case but, then again...  
“Well, we can’t exactly impress Flint Paper by proposing to him the concept of Bosco’s existence, it’s not exactly a million-dollar idea.”  
Max paused, actually closing his mouth for a second when he thought, which was rare, thinking I mean, before grinning widely again.  
“You bring up a fair point, and I wouldn’t have new material for my hard-boiled noir Flint Paper fanfiction if he was brainwashed like every other goon on Earth!”  
He leaned back against Sam’s stomach with a hand to the forehead, no doubt just for the drama of it all.  
“You’re right Sam, this is something we must do, no matter how much her tits disgust me!”

Sam made a face, it’s the face he makes when Max says something just a liiittle too uncomfortable for him to endorse.  
“Max, the author doesn’t actually know what this game is rated, but since the rudest word said in all three of the seasons was ‘bitchin’’, he’s assuming you can’t say that.”  
Max huffed and climbed Sam’s arm to sit on his shoulders. He fidgeted with Sam’s ears while he spoke, much to Sam’s both endearment and annoyance.  
“Oh c’mon Sam! Even if I knew what you were talking about, this fanfiction has a content rating of Teen And Up Audiences! You need to loosen up a little. Not everything is a Fox Kids animated television series.”

Sam scratched his head underneath his hat with another sigh, you learn to do that a lot when you’re playing the, pardon his hetero, straight-man in the relationship as often as he does.  
“Well, alright then, are you ready to get your flirt on?”  
Max grinned even wider as he wrapped his arms around Sam’s neck and planted his feet against his back, essentially strangling Sam if he wasn’t significantly heavier than the fuzzy white bunny rabbit he called his police partner.

“Oh, Sam, between the two of us we already KNOW who’s the charmer. She’ll be grossed out by my honest, heartfelt, mushy-ass, lovey dovey speak before you can get through one of your long-winded non-sequiturs.”  
Max rubbed his cheek against Sam’s reassuringly, which was nice for the most part, despite Sam’s slight unease at catching Max’s fleas, but honestly he had a few of his own so what’s the real harm.  
“Wow, it sure is a good thing this piece of media that doesn’t have audio or you would’ve had so much trouble pronouncing that word.”  
With Max still hanging by the dog’s neck, Sam scanned the card for Bosco’s Inconvenience and walked into the elevator. The AI seemed to have completely forgotten about “grounding” them, how ironically convenient.  
“Quiet Sam! Watch the master at work.”

As Sam walked out of the elevator and into the 60’s, Max jumped off of his back and landed in front of the counter, elbow resting casually on the top of the desk and his ears slapping Momma Bosco in the face. Max immediately lost whatever semblance of “cool” he had after such a fantastic start.  
“Um… Hey there, uh, dame. You’re looking... tall… REAL tall. A-And PRETTY too…”  
Momma Bosco was smugly smiling down at Max, Max avoided eye contact, his grin was so strained Sam could see his gums.  
”Plus you got… two eyes. There aren't a lot of girls like you nowadays, b-baby…”  
To punctuate, Max slammed his face into the counter to hide his face. Sam couldn’t tell if he’d gained or lost color during that interaction, but he knew it was one of the two. Momma Bosco laughed, causing Max to push further into the counter.

“Max, are you trying to act skeezy so I’ll lose interest? That’s cute, you struggling to be vulgar and all.”  
Max’s head shot up to show a very angry bunny, consequently slapping Momma Bosco in the face with his ears a second time.  
“Ok, LOOK lady I’m PLENTY vulgar, and I’d tell you exactly HOW vulgar if it wouldn’t push the content rating up. You’re just so disgustingly misshapen it’s HARDLY giving me any material. And that was absolutely not how I describe all women because I am a FANTASTIC WRITER.”  
Sam had to grab Max by his ears to stop him from jumping behind the counter and rupturing her colon.  
“Ok little buddy, you should stop before you get any more insecure about your improv skills.”  
Sam held Max like he was a baby in his arms. In response to this, Max crossed his arms and pouted like a baby in his arms.  
“Dumbass.”  
Sam pet Max a little longer after that, he only stopped when Max started to grind his teeth in a way that both endeared and unsettled him. Most of the things Max did gave him mixed emotions, he realized.

“Wowie, it’s gonna be harder than I thought to convince the hopefully-soon-to-be-Momma Bosco that you like her.”  
Sam- I mean Max, slumped in Sam’s arms.  
“Yeah, no kidding.”  
“Especially since you've never liked- oh, right. Hey Max, what was the exact date of which you confessed your undying love for me again?”  
The bunny rabbit squirmed and giggled in Sam’s arms, holding his face in his hands, as if that hides the grin that takes up a fourth of his skull.  
“Do you have to remind me? It was embarrassing!”  
Sam rolled his eyes, unimpressed, and ruffled the fur on top of Max’s head.  
“We’re married, idiot.”  
Max reached up to smooth out his fur, and wrapped his arms around Sam’s neck again.  
“I know but stiiill, it was my birthday by the way you big, dumb, lug.”  
And then Max started strangling Sam again.  
“Right, I remembered that.”  
Sam tried to mend the scenario, eventually Max did let go, but it wasn't because of that. Max held a hand to his mouth in thought.  
“At least I think it was.”

Sam shook his head and put his partner down back onto the floor. He started to rummage through his coat.  
“Well, either way we’re about to find out, little buddy.”  
The rabbit-y thing’s eyes lit up and he almost stood on his toes in excitement.  
“Oooh, hurry Sam! I wanna know if it hurts!”  
Ever the enabler, Sam took out the modified carbon dater and scanned the sucker, retrieving a time card with the Stinky’s Diner logo. Max, however, seemed wildly underwhelmed.  
“Aw man, it just made me feel all tingly for a few seconds, lame.”  
“Max, I scanned myself with this thing a while ago and I didn’t feel anything.”  
“Oh, then I guess that was just me then.”  
“You crack me up little buddy.”

Not wanting to open up that specific can of worms, Sam put the time card into a slot in the time elevator.  
“You’re sure you don’t want to try improv flirting with Momma Bosco again before we leave?”  
“You’re sure this isn’t one of those things where you ask me to do the same thing over and over again to see if I say something different?”  
“Touché.”

-

“Hm, Stinky’s Diner. We seemed to spend all our time there as kids.”  
“Of course we did! It’s SO much easier on the animators that way.”  
Sam looked around the diner, it looked almost the same as the one back home, except more sparingly decorated of course. Sam liked this version of Stinky's more, it really had that nostalgic feeling of your nose getting kicked in the balls, you know? The more he looked around though, he noticed Max and himself playing a video game, but more importantly…

“Max, you did say that you confessed to me in high school, right?”  
“I probably said that, why?”  
“Well, don’t look now, but those socially maladjusted, impressionable little tykes over there seem like they still haven't hit their teen years yet.”  
Max’s head turned 180 degrees away from whatever arbitrary thing he was looking at earlier to the kids in the corner of the room, seemingly unaware of the two older versions of them in the same aforementioned room.  
“Aw, I forgot how much of a soft and adorable little nerd you were in junior high. Look at your little shirt with my face on it. I could just die!”  
“Yeah, yeah, I get it, I was a cute kid. But we’ve landed in a completely ambiguous year in the 80’s, Max.”  
“The year was on the time card-”  
“We’ve landed in a completely ambiguous year in the 80’s, Max, it seems we’ve got the wrong birthday.”  
“Oh, dear me!”  
Max cupped his cheeks with his hands and did his damnedest to put on an expression of surprise and worry. Honestly, why Max still vehemently denied he was in the high school drama club was completely beyond even Sam.

“We have to find some other way to get to that day, but the only way to do that is with this scanner.”  
Sam pat said scanner in his jacket, as if it were his trusty, cartoonishly-large, revolver.  
“Then scan me again, assuming it won’t send us to some horrifying disaster scenario that involves me eating you like a birthday cake. But if it does, I want a nibble.”  
Max ended that thought with a terrifying grin, not unlike the one he had whenever he cuts Sam’s hair, for some reason.  
“You crack me up, little buddy.”  
Max had a point though, and Sam couldn’t think of any good reason not to, not including Max’s evident vore fantasy, so he took the carbon dater out of his jacket and took aim. Max even took the liberty of making his colossal paws into a heart and posing for the metaphorical camera, but when Sam tried to pull the trigger...  
“I’ve already scanned Max with this thing- Goddamnit.”  
“Language, Sam.”  
“Well this is a goddamn bitch of an unsatisfactory situation.”  
“LANGUAGE, SAM! THERE ARE KIDS HERE SO WATCH YOUR FUCKING LANGUAGE!”  
“SHUT UP, DON’T CURSE AROUND MY SON!”  
Both of them whipped around to see a young Sam holding onto an apparently-also-young Bluster Blaster very protectively.

An equally younger Max was playing said Bluster Blaster, eyes not leaving the screen even while he giggled like the demonic caricature of universal death and destruction he was.  
“Your son? Wow, you’re really attached to this machine for having just built it today. A little lonely, Sam?”  
“He’s your son too, Max, so shut up and don't shoot at me again.”  
“I SAID I was sorry.”  
“No, you didn’t.”

The older Max vibrated next to Sam, positively losing it.  
“Oh my god, you were a dad even in junior high holy sh-”  
“Ok, but he has a point.”  
“About the cursing thing or the dad thing? Or the shooting thing? Because I’m fairly certain I did say sorry.”  
“First of all, no you didn't, and second of all, about Bluster Blaster. He was ‘born’ today, on your birthday, I think we could scan him instead and maybe this time we’ll get the right birthday!”  
“I still think I did actually apologize for that.”  
“As always, you crack me up, little buddy.”  
Not wanting to carry that conversation for longer than he’d be ok with, Sam walked over to his younger self and bent down to speak to him in the same way Max would threaten to bust his kneecaps for back in high school.  
“Hey buddy, mind if I scan your little machine here with this completely inconspicuous carbon dater?”  
“I don’t care what you do as long as you don’t curse around BB.”  
“Gotcha pal.”

Sam grabbed his scanner and tried scanning the machine, making sure to pose and shoot in a way that was vaguely cool, only to get a blank screen save for the letters “NO TIME CARD” in a dull red.  
“Nothin’ doin’ little buddy, this is still just an arcade machine.”  
The statement was directed to his Little Buddy, but past Sam looked somehow even more offended, which was probably at least partially Sam’s fault, but he didn't like talking about his mistakes. Nonetheless, the little pup before him bared his teeth just a tad.  
“Don’t talk about my son like that! I just made him today! I still need to install an ai but the kit didn’t come with one and I don't have enough allowance to go out and get one.”  
“Oh god, remember not having money???”  
Next to him, Sam felt Max experience full-body chills, complete with comical shivering and uncomfortable facial expressions. The drama queen.  
“Well, ok then, how about we get you an AI? Maybe then BB’ll start acting person-adjacent enough to fool this hunk-a-junk.”  
His younger doggleganger gave a noncommittal shrug, he couldn't remember being this laid back about stranger danger as a kid, but to be fair he couldn't remember most things about being a kid.  
“You guys seem trustworthy enough for me to trust you for plot convenience purposes, so yeah, sure.”  
“Neat.”

-

“Bad news little buddy, It didn't take to politically correct”  
“Aw man, that one’s super boring but at least it wasn’t an asshole.”  
“LANGUAGE!”

-

“You think passive aggressive works?”  
Puppy Sam took the portable AI with a strange look and a grain of salt before bending down and inserting it into the arcade machine’s circuitry.  
“Hmm, the personality matrix is rejecting the new programming, I'll have to change it back.”  
Max slammed his face into the diner table to their left, leaving a dent in the table where his skull had cracked against it.  
“God da-”  
The Irish wolfhound pup in front of them gave a scathing look that could kill a weak hearted kitten on sight. The full-grown dog made a slicing motion with his hand to his neck, which despite the inherent charm of the gesture, was one of Max’s least favorite things Sam could do with his fingers. The lowest thing on that list being playing his damn banjo, and the highest being none of your damn business.  
“-aaang it, I actually liked that one, it had spunk.”  
Sam sighed and walked over to the booth Max was sitting at with as much exaggerated exhaustion as possible and a heavy sigh to go with it, and everyone knew that Sam being dramatic was a sign he was about to monologue, a telltale sign if you will.  
“Well Max, there’s only one feasible AI left, the one personality that’s truly fitting for the son of the two prepubescent adolescents we used to be… the same troubled little boys didn’t know how to properly bottle up their emotions at the time. We were so young, we didn’t know any better… we didn’t know how to raise a child...”  
“You know, there’s still suggesti-“  
“WELL MAX, THERE'S ONLY ONE FEASIBLE AI LEFT.”

-

“You will fail!”  
“Shut up!”  
The bunny was turning his ears backwards, and even growling at the game as he continued to play.  
“You lose again!”  
Finally backing away from the screen, Max jumped off from his chair and turned to face his partner accusingly.  
“Aw, you broke the game, Sam!”  
Max sounded almost sad as he said that, the most emotion the tyke had shown up to this point. It was oddly heartbreaking.  
“Nuh-uh, he’s fine, right BB?”  
“Go back to knitting grandma!”  
If Max sounded sad, Sam was about to cry. It was reeaally difficult to keep from beelining to the time elevator.  
“This blows now, he's so mean all the time!”  
“But you’re mean all the time!”  
The argument was beginning to sound like a married couple’s squabble. Not that Sam had any experience in those, most of the time. But the added context of them fighting over their son is what made it so hard to listen to.  
“Look let's just go to that lame dance, I can’t keep playing this game if its just gonna yell at me all night.”  
“But, Max-”  
“Are you coming with me or not?  
“...Yeah, ok, sure…”

“I can’t believe I just broke my son.”  
“Yeah, I feel really bad about it now that I remember it.”  
Sam put his hand on his partner’s head, petting the base of his ear as an attempt to make the little lagomorph feel better. There weren’t any visible improvements on the rabbit’s sullen expression, but he knew the action didn’t go unappreciated.  
“Maybe we should try to reconcile with Bluster Blaster the next time we see him, he’s still our son and we should’ve taken care of him.”  
“Oh god, I don’t know how I’d handle owning up to a mistake.”  
“Honestly, me neither bud, so I’m putting that into the ‘if we have nothing better to do’ pile.”  
“Yeah, good plan, now all we have to do is keep ourselves busy until we die or forget about it.”  
“Max, you and I both know we can never die.”  
Max jumped in place where he was standing and, literally, climbed Sam like a vine until he was resting in the dog’s arms.  
“Then we’ll forget about it! That’s the much more likely option anyway. Why, I think I already have!”  
“Really?”  
Max grabbed the sides of Sam’s head and brought their faces close enough so their noses were almost touching.  
“No, it’s eating me from the inside of my stomach out, it’s horribly painful.”  
Putting Max down before he got too carried away and started crying in his arms, Sam gave him a sturdy pat on the head in reassurance.  
“Well, don’t worry about it Max, we’ll get back to our own time in a jiffy, then we can get you back to destroying things as an outlet for your pain and emotions.”  
“Never say ‘in a jiffy’ ever again.”

With a heavy heart, Sam scanned Bluster Blaster and received a second time card for Stinky’s Diner. After using the card to open the elevator, he placed the card right above the other Stinky’s Diner card, because obviously he greatly overestimated his ability to distinguish the two.  
“Well here we are Max, the 90’s at last.”  
Previous heartache only a horrible memory in the back of his skull, Max jumped out of the elevator filled with false bravado, for multiple reasons.  
“Great! I finally get to relive the most embarrassing day of my young life!”  
“You sure do buddy, let it soak in like dirty dishwater into a sponge.”  
Sam and Max sat in the booth directly next to their past selves, somehow drawing no attention but that wasn’t the point. Seated in the far right booth were the infamous teens they’d been after this whole time...  
and yet nothing happened between them.  
They’d sat there for almost an hour and it’d gone by like a completely normal date to Stinky’s Diner and Sam was deteriorating. He was pretty sure Max would melt into radioactive waste within the next 10 minutes if nothing was done. They really were more trouble than they were worth. Sam could see where their teachers had gotten that idea from.

“Ok, evidently this is the correct date, since this is the perfect circumstance for a love confession.”  
Max slammed his hands down onto the table, frustrated beyond belief.  
“Right? All that tension in the air, it’s like we’re in a fic with the mutual pining tag.”  
“But apparently sending our past selves’ past selves to the junior high prom lead to… something… I can only guess whatever happened put the starting line for our relationship a little more forward in time, so we can’t access it with the time elevator.”  
“Well that’s fantastic Sam, I’ve always wanted to die at the hands of Brady Goddamn Culture.”  
“Shut up cotton brain, I think we can fix this in a way that’s both immensely entertaining for us, and simple enough so that the author doesn’t have to write a whole scene going into intensive detail about whatever obscure means we take to find our ends.”  
“But what could possibly be that generalized and cliche while still having our trademark chaotically destructive charm, Sam?”  
Sam gave his partner his best winning smile, which he knew always brightened him up.  
“We have to go back to the 80’s and crash our junior high prom!”  
“Oh. My. God. YES!!! I’ve ACTUALLY always wanted to do that!!!”  
Max was practically jumping on his chair in excitement, I say practically because that’s what he was doing.  
“Me too, buddy. And now that we aren’t enrolled as students, I think we can even add a little fire into the mix. As long as I snag one or two hundred snacks on out way out, of course.”  
Max tackled Max- I mean Sam, and sat in his lap marketably, Sam just scratched behind his ear.  
“This is why I married you, you dashing dog you!”

-

“It sure is a good thing that it’s within walking distance.”  
They ran out of the fire-warm and fire-sprinkler-damp junior high cafeteria with the crowd, blending in about as well as a 6ft-tall-dog and a rabbit with shark teeth could in today’s society.  
“I sure as hell would say so, little buddy.”

-

“Uhh, Sam?”  
Sam and Max sat in the booth directly next to their past selves once again, listening intently to the very-whilst-in-reality-not-so-private confession.  
“What is it little buddy? Something on your mind?”  
“Too many things to tell, but yeah, you could say I’m a tad spacey tonight.”  
“Well, let ‘em loose pal, what’s up?”  
Younger Max stiffened visibly, both of them did actually.  
“W… well I, uh, we’ve been going on dates for a while now right?”  
“Uhhhhh, yeah…?”  
“Hesitating isn’t very attractive, Sam.”  
“Well you know how it is, bud. You… aren’t trying to initiate a ‘what are we’ conversation are you?”  
Both Maxes started to breathe heavily, but due to respiratory issues young Max choked before getting a hold of himself.  
“…aaAUGH! I REFUSE TO THROW A BITCH FIT ABOUT THIS! SAM, I WANNA *REDACTED* YOUR *REDACTED* UNTIL I *REDACTED* AND YOU *REDACTED* *REDACTED* *REDACTED* *REDACTED*-”

-

“-*REDACTED* *REDACTED* *REDACTED* *REDACTED*-”  
“MAX!!!”  
“WHAT???”  
Both Sams were red in the face, but unlike his older counterpart, Young Sam only barely resisted the urge to grab the asthmatic rabbit and throw him out the closest diner window.  
“I’LL BE YOUR BOYFRIEND, JUST EAT YOUR FOOD BEFORE IT GETS WARM.”  
Younger Max grinned maliciously and jumped over the table to sit in Sam’s lap, dragging his food over to his new spot before shoving it all in his maw and spitting out a way-too-loud “GOOD.” around his “food”.

“Oh my GOD.”  
Present Sam stood up from the table, rubbing at his muzzle awkwardly as Max remained hunched over the counter not unlike a sack of nail clippings, not that they had one of those.  
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph on a saber-toothed cerberus heading for the 7th circle of Hades, I can’t believe you actually said all of that.”  
“I can’t believe I’ve been reduced to successional shock/gross out humor. It has no pacing, no substance, no taste! Was I that nervous???”  
“It certainly is something of a rarity little buddy, now we just have to rephrase it and have you read off the script to Momma Bosco.”  
“NO.”  
“Max-“  
“I’M NOT DOING IT.”  
Sam was snorting through his chuckles, making Max even warmer in the face.  
“Max, please-“  
“BOSCO ISN’T WORTH THIS, SAM, OK, NOTHING IS.”

-

She screeched, to put it lightly.  
“What’d you do to my Max?!”  
Sam tried his best to stifle his incessant grin and act peeved, but that was always hard to do when Max was in the picture.  
“Well for one thing, I married him. It’s so hard to keep his hands off of other people sometimes, it wears me down to the bone.”  
Max was using every skill he’s ever learned as a comic to keep a straight face, even going as far as to dematerialize his whole mouth, which he rarely did these days unless he was feeling particularly cartoony. Ms. Bosco, however, was livid, which kept his resolve going.  
“I thought you were different, Max.”  
“Some of my first words to you were, and I quote, ‘We’re gonna pick up some swingin’ 60s chicks and start a groovy hullabaloo.’ A groovy, hullabaloo.”  
She scoffed sassily, thankfully back to her old, strangely endearing self.  
“Well then good riddance then, you two are perfect for each other.”  
Sam had grabbed Max by his knees and lugged him over his shoulder, maybe to show off, but you can’t prove anything.  
“We don’t need you to tell us that.”  
As he walked back to the time elevator, he could tell that Max was making a tastefully offensive face behind him, and he couldn't have been happier that the events of this fanfiction are completely canon and indisputable.

**Author's Note:**

> ao3 hates me but i persevered and finally got this thing out into the unforgiving world


End file.
